


He Missed

by Wherenwhy



Category: Grand Theft Auto IV
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wherenwhy/pseuds/Wherenwhy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niko has a lot to explain about his life to Kate after Pegorino tried to kill her at Roman's wedding. There are some demons that he needs to get rid of. Maybe, she can help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pegorino missed. Maybe he was shit at shooting or that was a shit gun, but he had missed. Roman was fine. Kate was fine. Mallorie, too. He praised whatever deity saved his girlfriend's life. He didn't like this whole situation. He didn't like his life. He had to let go of the criminality, but, and this is an enormous but, it's not like Niko could let the swine get away. He hopped in a car, it turned out to belong to the priest, and chased Pegorino around Castle Gardens. Niko was outgunned and outmanned. He was not, however, outmatched. He caught up with the weak mobster in the Castle Tunnel. He shot him and shot him and shot him until the enemy fell to his knees. Niko was usually intense when he ended a target giving in his own word 'longwinded speeches to see the enemy off to hell'. This time he only let Pegorino grovel for his life. It was more like an old man ranting, really.

"You know that deal with Rascalov didn't happen because of you Niko. And for what, you were my best earner. An asset. I went down to that church to teach you a lesson. No one fucks with Jimmy Pegorino. Dmitri found that out the hard way too. He tried to clip me, so I clipped him. Birds of a feather flock together. Well, all I ever flocked with was fuckin' vultures. The whole flock was full of carrion eating scum. I provided, made life better for everyone. I gave people more than just fucking bread. They had wine with me too. Good wine. Wine made from only the best grapes. But that wasn't enough, all the fucking greed. That was never enough for the fucking vultures. The snakes! They wanted more and more and more. So they turn state's witness. They wanted to save themselves so they became wards of Alderney. Alderney didn't really have their back, you know. And now here I am about to be shot by some fucking Eastern European hood who I help bring up. No dues, no tribute either you fucking rat. Well, just put me out of my fucking misery, you backstabbing piece of shit!" The last sentence sounded hysterical to Niko.

"With pleasure," Niko Bellic said unflinchingly, expertly dispatching the Italian mobster with a bullet to the head and another to the heart. The feeling of firing the pistol in his hand was always a powerful thing. The part he hated most was the blood splatter. It always felt like, in American terms, warm maple syrup dripping down your face. The smell and the sight were fine. It was the metallic, acidic taste in his mouth always made him grimace. The body stopped twitching after a while and Niko departed taking a briefcase with $750,000 inside. Thankfully, the key was in the lock. That, uh, acquisition' brought his balance to $2,034,218. There the body lay in the middle of the Castle Tunnel. Nobody would miss him. Not even his wife. She was already having a torrid affair with the pool boy.

* * *

Needless to say, there was no reception that night. Or the next. I happened the next Friday night. Somehow, Mallorie had convinced Kate to come. She said, "She was at the wedding. She deserves her cake." It was a hassle to get it set up, too. The caterer and DJ both quit after the incident. They had both voided their bowels and fled from embarrassment and fear. Niko paid for the whole thing. He did so mostly out of guilt. "If I hadn't been there, nothing would have happened," was his reasoning. Mallorie tried to assuage his guilt with a genuine sentiment. "Who else can say that they had bullets to celebrate their marriage? All they get is rice." That didn't make it any better for Roman or Niko. Roman was surprised that he hadn't emptied himself. He was used to being shot at by now, he supposed.

When that Friday night arrived, the spring air had enveloped the city. The sun was staying up longer and the temperatures were getting warmer. The night air still had the presence of old man winter. Kate came begrudgingly and was looking beautiful. Niko gathered the courage.  **"Xраброст, Нико, храброст."** _Courage, Niko, courage._

"Kate, can I talk to you." He said his accent thick. The more nervous he got, the thicker the accent.

"Fine." She sounded angry. They both walked through the dance floor and to the back of the reception hall. The music was blaring and the beat was reverberating in both their ears in an unpleasant way. She almost had to shout to be heard. "We need to talk about what happened at that wedding. Packie's going crazy with fear. He was sitting on the sofa crying until I walked in. He hadn't hugged me that hard in years. Tonight we're going to act normal. Tomorrow morning were going to have a talk."

"You can come to my place," Niko said, earnestly suggesting.

"No, that is out of the question! Niko, we have to go someplace neutral, but discreet." The gears started turning in her head. "Maybe Middle Park, I'll call you tomorrow to set something up."

She walked away with the power. Niko's mouth was slightly ajar at her terseness.

Awhile later, there was a toast. Niko noticed that Mallorie's champagne glass was filled with water. Mallorie made the announcement that she was expecting. Roman nearly fainted afterwards but Brucie caught him in mid-descent. He was happy, really happy. He was finally going to have child. Niko was happy too, and a little… envious. Kate was glad for the couple.

"Maybe one day, that'll be me," she thought. "Maybe."

* * *

The next day dawned warm, sunny and damp. The warmth would have been pleasant, if not for the high relative humidity. It was one of those days when one knew there would be a thunderstorm in the afternoon. It was June 2nd, and the high for the day was eighty-eight degrees. The humidity made it feel like nearly 100. Kate kept her promise and called Niko at 10:30 in the morning. She said that he should pick her up and that they would drive to Hove Beach to talk. Niko agreed. There were no more enemies down there. Well not anymore. He chose the car Bernie had given to him. When he wasn't on a job, this was his regular car. There wouldn't be anymore jobs, so he was now a one car man.

When he arrived on Savannah Avenue she was wearing a light green sweater and a light yellow shirt underneath. She was wearing blue jeans. Niko had shown up in some clothes he purchased from MODO. Normally, on one of their other 'outings' she would have complimented him. Now, her face was tense. They had hardly exchanged a word when he was driving down Dukes Boulevard into Cerveza Heights. The drive continued as the road turned into Montauk Avenue. Hove Beach was very near and the smell of hotdogs and ocean blended with the scents of Traditional Eastern Europe. Crockett Avenue was always busy, but Niko found a spot that day. They both stepped out of the car. Niko, having watched the traffic, was still nearly run over. "Only in America do they let blind people drive," he half-shouted. Kate could only chuckle in response. Niko was grateful for that. Maybe this conversation wouldn't be as bad as he thought. That is to say, that the talk would be lighter than expected. They walked down to the sand, bypassing the now operational, and thus noisy Funland. The Liberty Eye was spinning and the rocking cars were sliding on their curved tracks. There was a lot of excited noise coming from the Screamer as the car started its descent. They walked along the wooden platform towards the sound. Kate had her hands in her pockets, and Niko did the same. They walked down to the benches that had the view of Lower Algonquin. It had a perfect view of the bench where Dmitri was that day he betrayed Faustin.

"Niko, you're going to have to be completely honest with me today. You're the first friend in a long time who I felt, I  _need_  to talk to," she took a deep breath and continued. "Who is the man that shot at the wedding?"

"Kate… I can't explain that, unless. I start from the beginning, here in Liberty City." He was flustered because he was going to start from the beginning:

"I arrived in this country, in this city, at East Hook on the  _Platypus_. You know that ship where the captain and first mate were found dead. But I didn't have anything to do with it. I swear. I got here early on a Tuesday morning with no money and very little English. I thought I was coming to Liberty for liberty and luxury. My cousin, Roman, had told me in his many emails that he was very successful. He said he had a mansion and cars and woman. When I stepped off of the boat he wasn't there. I waited for a few minutes and he came, speeding down the dockside in a cab. He was so drunk, I have no clue how he even made it. I asked him why he was in a cab, he said the sports car was in the shop.

"So we drove for only a few short minutes when we arrived at the 'mansion' in Hove Beach," he sighed.

"Mm-hmm, I'm listening, not judging," she said looking into his eyes.

"Thank you," he  _was_  thankful, "Well, that mansion turned out to be a shithole. The cockroaches were bigger than us. We went upstairs and I got my first American money from Roman, twenty-five dollars. It was a ten, two fives, and five singles. I know I was involved in the slave trade before, but the American money was always reserved for the bosses. I only ever got Euros and dinars. That's when I started doing odd jobs for Roman and later Jacob, the Rasta you met at the wedding. I even ran fares as a taxi driver. I had my first American girlfriend, too." Her ears perked up.

"Her name was Michele and she lived on Mohawk on Rotterdam Hill. She seemed to be a good listener and kind. Our first date was at that bowling alley right down the pier. We dated for a several weeks and I really got to like her." Niko was smiling as he said that.

A strange feeling came into Kate's gut. She wasn't quite sure, but it felt like jealousy. Jealousy. She thought to herself,"  _You can't be jealous of one of his old flings. You two are just friends. Right… just friends. She and your man were just friends. Alright? Wait… your man. No, Niko is just your friend. Your boyfriend. NO a friend who just happen to be a boy… a man. Your boyfriend is a man. HE'S NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND. He's just your friend_."

"Are you alright?" Niko asked with a concerned look on his face.

"Of course, why do you ask?" she sounded flustered.

"Because you're blushing." He said.

"It's just hot, is all," face still aflame.

"Why don't we go to Bart Street and grab some lunch. I'm buying." He could handle all the dates for the rest of his life with his newly acquired money. He hoped that there wouldn't be to may more.

"Damn right you are." She said exhaling in relief. She thought for a second that Niko saw right through that.

* * *

They decided to walk down to the restaurant. It was only a block away and Niko could show her the old apartment and Comrade's Bar on the way to the diner. Niko was greeted by the same rude hostess as they took a seat at the second booth from the back. The hostess/waitress took their orders while popping pink bubblegum and stretching wads of it out of her mouth with her pencil. It was one of those diners that had the full menu on the placemats. Kate ordered a chicken Caesar salad and a sprunk soda. Niko ordered the same.

"Coming right out. We'll try not to drop anything on the kitchen floor. No guarantees," She said laughing, almost skipping away. She didn't know but that caused a major deduction in her tip from $30 to 30 cents.

When the food arrived, Niko was surprised to discover no hairs or rat droppings. The meal was silent. Kate was still trying to stop herself from putting the word 'boy' next to the word 'friend' in her head. Niko was sweating bullets over how to explain how her brothers were involved in his long story. He figured that he could, however, tell her about how Michele was really Karen.

The visceral feeling, jealousy, in Kate's gut did not subside that much. Maybe twenty percent, more like ten.

* * *

"So you mean to tell me that Francis wanted you to kill Derrick?!" She whispered hysterically, gesticulating violently, on the bench by the seaside.

"Yes, he did," Niko said, avoiding the questioning and watery eyes of his girlfriend, "He was going to give me a handsome amount of money to do it, too."

"What did you do?"

"Well, I had to think about it, I couldn't call Packie. That would have crushed him."

"So, what did you  _do_?"

"I aimed my rifle and I shot in the benchspace between them."

"They got the message and walked in opposite directions."

"You did the right thing." She was grateful that he found a way to prevent killing anyone. Though after, hearing the story she would have preferred, if she had to pick, that Francis would have been closely acquainted with the bullet. She had the urge to acknowledge that thought vocally. She suppressed it, mightily.


	2. Who Sent You?

"So that's how we end up in the present day," Niko said finishing his American story, or his sordid tale of his life in America. It was so long it took almost two whole days to tell. Kate only sat on the bench with her mouth ajar, only slightly, with awe. Her eyes were not focused on Niko. They were not focused on his tight fitting jacket or his tight fitting pants, or that massive package. Wait what? "Kate, stop coveting," she chided internally. She was trying mightily and pointlessly to focus on the gray and white seagulls that were making that joyful laughing, or cackling noise. They, those damn birds, were taunting her, as another question, something more personal, left her lips and made itself known.

"So you mean to tell me, Niko Bellic, that you did all of that and still had the time to hang out with your friends? To do go and eat and see shows with me?" She was astonished by the amount of effort put in or the lack of sleep this man endured.

"Well, it's not like I worked everyday of my life in America, sometimes I went days, weeks between work," He tried his best to explain.

"I know that you poured out your guts to me, but how can you just refer to it as 'work'?" She, in her heart of hearts, wanted to know how the man she loved coul-. Damn she'd done it again, "We're just friends, dammit. Pull yourself together," she thought. She had begun to tune out whatever he was saying. Had she not she would have been dismayed and horrified.

"When you're just a twelve years old and you watch a man kill and burn an eight year old girl, your neighbor's daughter, you realize that there are people out there who don't have souls. The work I did, for the most part dealt with the scum of the earth like that man," he said seriously, looking down into the face of the woman sitting next to him on the bench at the seaside. He spoke with a softer tone this time, "You're doing it again," he said with a well-meaning grin and relieved gracing his face.

"What?" She said almost screamed. He actually cringed in embarrassment at her volume. Wow, Niko Bellic cringing.

"You're црвењење," He said trying to mess with her.

"I am not blushing," she protested vehemently. Although, she knew acutely that she was.

"How did-" His eyes and mouth were comically gaping.

"I've been taking some classes. Alright? It wasn't easy but I found a Serbian class in Algonquin, in Easton. Every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday night, after work, I go and learn your native language. I figured that it was something useful. I could get a second language, and surprise you on your birthday."

"I don't know what to say." He was flattered and surprised that she took the time."

"And another thing, my penmanship in that Cyrillic alphabet is just, terrible," she was smiling.

He chuckled heartily.

That night, when Kate had arrived home, Packie noticed something different about his sister. He didn't know exactly what it was, but there was certain that it was different.

So in his Packie way he got down to the bottom of the situation. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asked his sister, rudely.

"Whatever it is, it's none of your damn business." Fight fire with fire.

"It is my business when you come strolling in with that retarded look on your face so late."

"Patrick," she knew that he hated it when he used his name, "First of all," she said looking at her watch, "It's 8:30. Second, since when do you care about my goings and comings?" She slapped herself mentally, immediately knowing where her brother was going to go with that.

"There shouldn't be any coming. Not from my little sister." He looked fierce, "Why have you been hanging out so much with Nikolai Bellic?"

"Nikolai?" she asked to irk Packie, "I have been with Niko just talking. We've been going to the beach and talking and that's it."

"Talking about what?!" He demanded.

"If you must know, talking about everything that happened since Niko arrived in this God-forsaken country.

"What do you mean everything?" His voice softened considerably, fearing what she was going to say next.

"Everything. Like the way she saved your ass when that drug deal for Elizabeta Torres went bad. Or when you robbed that bank in Algonquin."

"SHIT!" Packie figured that Niko must have been serious.

"Exactly, so please mind your goddamn business from now on." She said as she prepared to ascend to her room. She was smiling as she climbed the stairs, knowing that she was victorious.

Packie watched her walk up the stairs and waited for the click of her door closing. When the door was shut, he went immediately into his pocket and grabbed his cell phone. He went to the third contact on his favorites list.

"Hello?" An accent came across.

"What the fuck are you doing telling her about the bank?"

"She already knew."

"WHAT?!" Had Packie been high right then, he would have died.

"She noticed all of the extra money. She noticed that new car and the new computer and all of the cocaine." Niko would have gone on, but he knew that he didn't need to go on.

"But why the fuck—"

"Look, Packie, she's not a little girl anymore. She wanted to know about me, so I told her about me. She's one of the few people I cannot lie to."

"Well, when did Niko get so damn serious?" He asked. He actually sounded as if he was talking about him not to him.

"I got serious when I realized that I—"

All Packie could hear was a dull thud. He wasn't sure if it was a gunshot. Then there was the sound of a struggle. Panting. Coughing. Groaning. Another thud like a punch making contact. Someone, not Niko, shouting in a lot of profanities, not that that made him shudder. A grunt and another thud, like someone hitting the ground.

"Niko?" Packie sounded a little frightened, though he would say he didn't.

NOTHING

"Niko, answer me dammit."

A voice that wasn't Niko's crackled over the phone. "We got this nigga."

"What the fuck is going on?" Patrick was just plain confused now.

"If you wanna see this Pollock again it'll be in hell, mothafucka." The gangster replied.

"Who sent you?"

"X, mothafucka." He hung up. 'Mothafucka' seemed to be that particular gangster's favorite word.


	3. The Triangulation of X

I am sorry that I have neglected this. I haven't published a chapter in months and there's no excuse for that. I understand that there was some confusion over who X is. He is _**not**_ Playboy X. It is not explained in this chapter, but I will tell you where the name comes from. It has something to do with Liberty City Public Television. I'm back so read away...

* * *

…But who the fuck was X?

Packie was too smacked to know. He, even in his intoxicated state, knew that the one with all off the answers was right upstairs.

"KATE!" He screamed as he stomped up the stairs, "KATE." He got to the landing and zoomed even faster up the rest of the steps. He parked in front her door and started knocking, more like beating it violently. "Open up!"

"Go away, Patrick." Her voice was assertive.

He forced his way into the room. Now, I say forced, because the door was locked. "What is your problem?"

"When we talked, Niko just said 'I took care of him.' What would he have meant by that?" Packie put on his detective hat.

"What the hell are you talking about?" She was puzzled.

"It doesn't make sense."

"Patrick, what the—"

He interrupted her, but at least he was addressing her, "Now that you know his whole fucking life story, little sister, who the fuck is X?"

"X?"

"Yes! X! Who could that be?"

"It can't be Playboy X. He's dead and Niko took ownership of that apartment."

"Are you sure he's dead?" Packie asked staring out of the window.

"He shot him between the eyes and he wasn't breathing. Niko's words, not mine." Those were the exact words.

"Then who the fuck—"

* * *

Presently, Niko was returning to consciousness. He'd sustained a blow to the head that rendered him unable to defend himself against the gangster, whose favorite word was 'motherfucker'.

He eyes opened wide when he noticed that he could only move his arms a little, and his legs only slightly more. He listened to what was going on around him.

Niko felt and heard a hard slap on to his face.

"I know you awake, asshole. Open your eyes!" It was a new voice.

Niko complied and opened his eyes. He looked up at the man who he presumed smacked him, and the gangster who snatched him was standing against the wall of the shitty room, Niko assumed basement, he was in. He looked around the room. The walls were dirty and the paint was peeling. The floor was concrete and there was blood in various stages of drying. There were tools and instruments of torture strewn about the place. The ceiling was dark with dust and dirt, and from it hung wires to which the light bulbs were attached. Having taken note of these things he looked back at his captors.

"You know who the fuck I am?" the gangster asked. He was a black guy. He dressed in the style that all the ghetto gangsters in Liberty City wore. His pants were hanging down below the crack of his ass. He was wearing a snap-back cap.

"No." Niko said, forgoing his usual quips in this situation,

"I am X," the thug started. "I run Tudor."

"Tudor, that's a lot of important real estate." Niko remarked sardonically.

X didn't seem to pick up on the irony, "Yeah, dat's right. _WE_ got beef now."

"How?"

"You killed Jimmy Pegorino."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Niko lied.

"There ain't no use lying. I got you tied up and there ain't no way you getting out of here. I figured for your sake I would keep alive long enough to tell you how much you have fucked with me."

"Look, I don't want to fuck with any-"

"The more you listen the longer you live, motherfucker. If you keep interrupting me, I'm gonna bust a cap in yo' ass."

* * *

In the McReary House…

"So, Niko's in trouble. Packie, I have a plan. Give me your phone."

"What the fuck for?" Packie was still inebriated.

"Just give me the phone Patrick!"

"It's my ph-"

"Give me the _fucking_ phone!" She snatched it out of his hand. He staggered back in a mixture intoxication he was and in utter shock that little Katie had become so forceful with him. All he could do was stand back and blink in astonishment.

She dialled a number that Packie had not expected and threw him off even further when she spoke, "Francis, it's your favorite sister asking for a favor from her favorite Deputy Commissioner."

Packie nearly fainted.

* * *

Wherever Niko was…

His phone was ringing in the other thug's pocket.

"Turn that shit off," X commanded.

"Wait, I think it's my girlfriend. She wouldn't know nothing about this. She don't even speak English. Let me talk to her one more time before you waste me and tell her I love her." Niko was sure that he wasn't going to die right then, but he knew that his chances of living would be even greater if Kate knew where he was.

"How do I know you ain't gonna tell her what's going on."

"I don't know where the fuck I am. I couldn't tell her anything."

* * *

McReary House

Kate was holding the phone to her ear. This was the second call she made. You see she had called Francis to get him to trace Niko's phone. He said that he could, but he needed her to stay on the phone for at least two minutes for the triangulation to be accurate. That was a hard task, knowing that she would have to pretend to be calm for 120 seconds.

"Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up" she kept chanting. She had grabbed her homework for her Serbian class and was ready to carry out a full conversation in a the strange language.

" _Hello,"_ Niko answered in Serbian.

" _Hello, Niko I know that you're in trouble, that someone kidnapped you. Do you know where you are?"_ Her accent was perfect and she kept a calm, level voice.

" _I think I might be- I have to spell it so that they don't know what I'm saying. T-У-Д-O-Р[Tudor]._ "

" _Okay, I wrote it down. I'm going to spell it backwards to make sure I'm right, yes."_

" _Yes," he answered, still impressed with her accent._

" _P-O-Д-У-T"_

" _Yes."_

" _We're coming to find you." She reassured him. "We will get you away from them."_

" _It may be too late, but you know that I love you. I have never loved anything more. I can only wish that you felt the same way. If I could see your face one more time, I could die a happy man."_

* * *

Wherever Niko was…

X snatched the phone away from him. He held it up to his ear. He spoke into it.

"Bye, bitch." He thought that pressed the red button that usually ended a phone call. He in fact had only turned down the volume. The call was still in progress.

He threw the phone to the ground. That did not disable it either.

* * *

McReary House…

"He has not hung up. I think whoever kidnapped him didn't realize that the is still on."

She went for her cell phone and called Francis again.

"I got a location, Kate."

* * *

Wherever Niko was…

"Bitch, I'mma let you know how you fuck me over now," X started. "Pegorino ran Alderney. He ran the whole thing. So you might think that killing him might make things better for me." He walked up and grabbed Niko by the face. He looked him in the eye.

"You didn't make nothing better. You see, Jimmy P and me had an agreement. He would distribute the weed that I grew and I would move cocaine and gums for him. That's why people in these Tudor Projects are high as a kite, and in Berchem all those crackas is mellow. The Pegorino mob been falling apart since you smoked him and my distribution is gone. Money ain't flowing in to my pocket the way it used to." He shoved Niko's face away. He was so focused on Niko's face that he didn't realize the Serbian was making headway in his endeavor to free himself.

"Look, I didn't know you ran with them," Niko said, "but Pegorino tried to kill my girlfriend and he had to die."

"I don't care if he tried to kill your moms."

Niko came up with an idea, "Look, why don't you make a deal with the bikers and have them sell. Think about it, the big families in Liberty City, work with jewels, there's no market for that out here, and if there was they're too proud to start drug dealing with all these so-called Geurnsey goombas. You make a deal with The Lost and your weed will be all over the place."

"That do sound smart X," said the thug who kidnapped Niko.

"Shut up, T." X shouted.

* * *

In Packie's car on the Hickey Bridge.

"We're close." Kate said as she steered towards Alderney City. She did have a valid license, but hated driving.

"Where is this place?"

"Patrick, I already told you. They have him on the corner of Phalanx and Emery."

"Take the-"

"Yes, I'm taking the Skyway."

* * *

In X's lair.

"You have cost me too much money for me to take any advice from you!" X said.

"What do you think this is? I'm trying to fucking help you make more money in a week that you have lost. You could kill me now and probably not make the connection, I'm trying to give you or you could listen to me."

"I give you something, for a creepy foreign cracka, you sure is a brave motherfucker," X said, pulling up another chair and sitting in it backwards (the back of it was in front of him and he leaned his chest into it). His leg came out from the sides of the chair an Niko noted how scrawny they were.

"Anyway there's multiple ways you can set this up. You could talk to the bikers; I know the Deputy Head of The Lost. You can come to them with a contract say. They'll sell you're weed in Dukes and you can start pushing their heroin here in the projects. From talking to Johnny this has been the one area that they haven't been able to push into."

"Cuz I been keepin' them out."

"Look at it like this. You're pot is already a downer. Just get your people over her to take the ultimate downer."

"We was looking at getting into cocaine anyway, X." Said T, "Cocaine to bring them up and some heroine to bring them down."

"Shut the fuck up. You only speak when I speak to you." X didn't even turn around to look him in the eye.

"Think about it," Niko started again, "I just chopped the head off of not your biggest partner, but your biggest competitor. You need to fill in the cocaine market in Alderney before those families across the market suddenly realize the profit they can make out here and soon enough they won't be too proud to sell here in Alderney. Then your really fucked." Even Niko was surprised by how economical and logical he sounded. What X did not realize is that Niko managed to wrangle is arms free and that there was no more tension on his legs either. The jackasses had only used one rope and one knot to hold him.

"It's such a shame that I'mma have to kill. You giving me good advice. Now I gotta kill you cuz I said I was going to kill you."

"I like the honesty. Not that many honest hustlers left." Niko said, without thinking.

"Are you trying to stall on me nigga?" X asked.

"I want to live, but as I am tied up and unable to help myself, the decision is not entirely mine. I really think that if you wanted me dead, you'd've done it already. But you're not a monster," Niko was faking Stockholm Syndrome, "You look like somebody who's trying to get out of the life. You're me, in a way. Pegorino was the only one holding us down. I wanted out and judging by the fact that I'm not dead you want out too."

"What you think you gonna make me cry nigga?" X yelled.

"I don't think anything. I'm strapped to a fucking chair thousands of miles away from home." Niko screamed back.

"That's it motherfucker." X stood up and pulled out his gun in one quick motion. He aimed it towards Niko's face. He fiddled around with it for a while. He set his sights first at Niko's chin.

He moved to Niko's cheek.

Then to his nose.

And then between Niko's eyes.

He steadied his hand when he realized that it was wobbling a little. X's arm was trembling like an autumn leaf worse than his hand was. X took a long, deep breath and a wheezing sound, the result of years of smoking chain tobacco and marijuana every day, filled the room and vacated it just as quickly. T was still standing against the wall looking at Niko with a gaze of focus (or, more likely a dull stare that came from undiagnosed case of moderate mental retardation).

X moved his finger towards the trigger and marvelled the same way a little boy would at the cold metallic stiffness of the barrel. Holding the awkward weight a pistol in his hand always gave X a thrill. It was the same now. He put his index finger on that trigger.

He closed his eyes and breathe out. Another raspy sound reverberated

He pulled the trigger.

BANG

X opened eyes to find that Niko wasn't slumped over. There was only a pile of rope around the hard plastic KRAPEA chair.

"DA FUCK, '' was all X had manged to say before there was a blow to the back of his head knocking him unconscious. X hit the concrete floor head first and Niko grabbed his gun.

You see, Niko had ducked out of the way, silently when X closed his eyes. When X closed his eyes before he shot anyone he counted to ten as he breathed out. That gave Niko plenty of time to move out of the way. X's exhalation was so loud that he didn't hear the whoosh as Niko ran behind him. With X out of commission. Niko turned his attention to T.

T was still gazing at the chair. Proof positive that he was retarded.

Niko wasted no time and shot him in the head. With T's sad intellect, it was more of a mercy killing. He watched T's body drop to the floor, the puddle of blood forming around his head. "It's just a wound."

Niko saw that the gun only had one more bullet in it. He looked back down at X.

Again Niko felt no need for delay and shot him in the back of the head.

There was a quick gasp for air and then silence.

"I WAS FUCKING DONE WITH THIS!" Niko shouted.

He kept the gun and found hi way out of the building. It turned out that he was not in the basement, but just in the shitty corner of some of the random shitty houses that were archetypal Southern Alderney. He walked out into the street and stood an looked at the darkness for some time before he resolved to find and steel a car. As he was crossing the street to commandeer a shitty beige Willard he saw a pair of headlights approaching at speed.

He squinted and saw that it was a red sports car.

"It's Packie, _thank God."_

The car pulled up beside him and he saw that Kate was in the driver's seat. Packie was passed out in the back seat. She rolled down the window

"You're alive," she shouted with glee.

"Yes, but now I want to go home." He got into the car.

She looked over at him and sighed.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review! Also be sure to read and review my other GTA fic in progress 'James'


	4. Weeping May Endure for a Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter...

He sat down in the passenger seat. He looked over to his left and saw that the evidence of tears that fell a short ago. Her eyes were puffy and he could see the streaks that resulted from her powerful emotion. Instantly he started to feel something strange in his gut. It felt like a perverted mix of nausea, hunger, and a stabbing pain to the viscera. He looked down and saw the specks of gunpowder on his hands and his clothes. He peered up and marveled at the fact the even so far from the glaring lights of Algonquin he could see no stars. The moon was new as well. So the sky, though, for the most part clear of any clouds was bleak and barren of anything to cherished.

For those moments he had not been conscious of the fact that he was not moving. Kate, had not put the car in park or turned it off, but she sat idling looked at the road . Her gaze upon the path is not easy to describe. The expression was a curious mixture of fear, grief, odd composure, doubt, faith, and a strange, unsettling joy. Only a virtuous woman could manage to express these emotions at one time in one look. Niko was about to nudge her from her catatonic gaze, when she snapped out of it under her own volition.

She started to steer toward the expressway.

She spoke in a voice that wanted to but failed to conceal its hurt, "I'm glad that my mother isn't awake. She'd be worried sick that I wasn't home. It's almost one."

"I'm sorry," Niko said.

"Niko these people took you-"

"You should stay away from me. I bring nothing but trouble and pain into the lives of those I know. I'm a killer and now all of those I wronged are trying their best to get their vengeance. The more I live the less I seem to have. There's no peace for me, no hope, no faith."

"I have faith in you. You ended your shady life and you are legitimate now." She pointed out.

"That means nothing. The end of that was supposed to be clean. Instead, I'm covered in blood again."

"There's bloodshed in everybody's story."

"You have a drop or two and I am drowning in a great big ocean. Men and women alike. Their blood cries up from the earth. And I am guilty. At night, right before I go to sleep I feel as if there are a thousand set of eyes watching me. They probably say, 'It's him. He's the last one I saw. He's the one that ended it all. He shot me or stabbed me or bludgeoned me. He sleeps now. I sleep forever.' I think of that every night."

"You have to forgive yourself Niko. Those people you killed… Look they don't care anymore. What you did is no longer a burden to them. You have to move on. You say that you wanted to make a clean break. It's not that easy. You aren't committing crimes anymore and that is good. Now you have to create that distance between yourself and those thoughts. What's done is done. Dead men shouldn't have any control of your life. Dead men tell no tales and dead men cannot avenge anything."

"I-"

"Niko, you always bemoaning your suffering. You don't have to suffer anymore. This is your chance to be happy. I assure you that you can beat this. Weeping may endure for the night but joy comes in the morning."

"That's beautiful. where's it from?"

"Psalm thirty, verse five."

"Leave it to you to quote the Bible. I'm sure that God has rejected me. If He can number the hairs on my head, He knows all the souls I have killed." Niko said.

"And he knows that a great many of them turned out to be a waste of life."

"What does that make me?"

"It makes you someone who has actually helped more people than you know," she replied, "You were killing gangsters who had done nothing but pipe drugs into communities, lured young girls into prostitution, stolen from the poor, raped, killed men, women, and children, killed police officers who had tried to do their jobs. You were never killing little old ladies, but they were. You were only killing savages!" She almost yelled.

"They all had mothers and some had children."

"My mother has seen this lifestyle her whole life. It's no way to live and it's no way to bring up a child."

"These are the facts," Niko started, as the car started to drive down in the Booth Tunnel. "I am a murderer and a thief. I have no skills. I have no trade. I was just a shepherd and I only know how to do bad things. I don't know why you are even entertaining this conversation. Sometimes, I feel fake and scripted. I feel like I'm in a shitty television show or in one of those video games. But I am not, I am not. I can't press a reset button. When I came in I on The Platypus a friend of mine told me that he wanted the dream, house, wife, kids. I didn't want it. I just wanted to be free."

"You can be free. You can pursue whatever you want now. She assured him.

"I don't know."

"There's something you're not telling me." She knew it from the sound of his voice. "You can't lie to me. I know you too well."

He confessed and did not deny, but said plainly "Bulgarin. The man who made me flee to this country is here in America. HE trades weapons, jewels, drugs and people. He is the biggest smuggler in Europe and operates across the Adriatic. I told you that. He's here and he's a threat as I live and breathe."

"He's a threat as long as…" She stopped because she had a thought, "Has he committed any crimes in this country, ya think?"

"Dozens, hundreds, I'm sure." Niko affirmed. "Why?"

"Francis could have him arrested."

"He would make bail."

"Is he a flight risk."

"Yes, I would think so," he replied.

"But he could afford those stellar lawyers to get him out on bail."

"Yes."

"He would leave America," she reasoned.

"He is not a reasonable man. He trades girls as young as eleven for sex. He's filth."

"Well, never mind, I'm sure someone will get rid of him sooner rather than later."

"The sooner the better," Niko said.

Ten seconds of what would be silence except for Packie's snoring.

She surprised him with this, "Why did you say that you love me?"

"When a thug is pointing a gun in your face, the things that things that you were always afraid to say end up coming out."

"Oh, so you were afraid to tell me this?" She did that thing that only a woman could do. She framed such an innocent sounding question in such a way as to make the man to be very careful to pick his words with wisdom, or, if he failed, die.

"You had always just said that we were just friends. I had hoped against all that you were just shy about it. I saw you and knew you were the most precious thing I ever had the pleasure and honor of seeing."

She grew silent again as she was descending off of the Algonquin Bridge.

"Niko, I'm sorry," she started, his heart sunk in anticipation of what he thought she was going to say about the feeling not be reciprocated, "I should never have asked you. You have put me off guard. I've never been told before that I was special."

"When I think of beauty, I see you." He said.

"I lived for virtue. I lived for truth and now it is I who is guilty. I felt the same. I denied it. But every time I see you I just to be closer to you. I just want to be with you."

"So can I start dating you now?" He was laughing.

"Yes, but not tonight." She was now turning onto Savannah Avenue. Niko peered up for the second time that night. The sky was starting to lighten. He looked at the car's radio. It was 5:30.

She stopped in front of her house and looked in the rear view mirror. Packie was still out.

"Packie, wake up!" She said loud enough to rouse him.

"Huh, what." He got up and saw that Niko was sitting in the front seat, "So we got him?" he asked groggily.

"You didn't do anything."

"Whatever. Niko's good so I'm going to bed" Packie said.

"So am I." Kate agreed.

"Not with him, you're not." Patrick was getting aggressive now.

In Serbian only loud enough for she and Niko to hear she whispered, " _Not yet but one day."_ Niko smiled at that.

"What did you say?" Patrick half-yelled.

"I said that I am too fucking tired to argue with you," she lied, "I'm going to be to sleep and nothing else." She took the key out of the ignition and them them in Packie's general direction.

They all got out of the car. Niko looked at the pair of them again and spoke, "Thank you, the both of you. Go get some sleep. I'm going to get one of Roman's cabs to take me home."

"See you later, Niko." Packie said

"I'll call you," Kate said before retreating into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, I see a lot of kudos and, of course, I'm grateful, but I want to know what you guys and gals actually think.


	5. Perseus and Packie

Niko felt the phone vibrating in his pocket. He scooped it out immediately and saw the wrong name on the screen. Roman had the uncanny and unparalleled ability to call at the worst conceivable times and ask to do the dumbest things. Against Niko's better judgement he pressed the green symbol on the keypad.

"Hey," Roman started, without giving Niko the time to say hello',"I heard that there was some trouble and I wanted to call you and make sure that you were alright."

"I am."

"Well, dear cousin, I hope that you can check in on the condo. Mallorie and I are going on our honeymoon. We have a flight from Francis International leaving tonight at nine. Los Santos, here we come."

"Congratulations." Niko wasn't speaking too much right now.

"Thank you, but I didn't sound like you meant it."

"I do mean it," Niko could not even convince himself of the sincerity in his voice, "Be happy with her."

"Why don't you do the same with Kate?" Roman asked.

"I fucked up again. Well it wasn't me. My actions came back to haunt me."

"What happened?"

"Kidnapped." He said in a word

"She was kidnapped?!" Roman screamed into the phone

"No, I was," Niko answered, "Some thug knocked me out and I ended up in some warehouse in Tudor."

"Wh-"

Niko continued to speak, "They had me tied to a chair. I wriggled myself out and shot the bastards. As I was leaving, she pulled up. She had been crying. She was scared. _I_ scared her. There was blood on me, on my clothes. She must have seen that. She-" Niko paused and felt tension in his throat, "I don't want to scare some I love,"

"Whoa, cousin, I had no clue you felt this strongly about her."

"I've never felt this way about anybody before. Everytime I see her or even think about her I get butterflies. I can't go two seconds without imagining her smile or how soft her skin is. How she always smells like lavender and vanilla. Listen to me I sound like a schoolboy with a crush."

"No, Niko, you sound like someone who's found 'the one'. When I found Mallorie, I got the same feelings. Look at us now. We're on our way to LS."

"And I'm on my way to Hell."

"Niko, do not talk that way. What you need to do is relax. Call her; talk to her."

"She said that she would call me first."

"Why, wait?" Roman hung up with that. The click that ended the conversation reverberated in Niko's head and almost seemed to echo throughout his condo. Niko took the phone from next to his ear, held it in his hand, and stared at it as ithe was holding spent fuel rod. He would swear later that he had not thought about it, that, in fact, his hands acted without his consent and that he could not control the words that he spoke.

"Niko!" Kate answered more excitedly than she would have liked.

"Kate, I'm… I wanted to know if we could you know, do something. You know like a date, tonight." He heard that his accent got worse.

" _Sure, I would love to. Someplace fancy."_ She replied in Serbian.

" _Okay, I'll pick you up at seven."_

* * *

Niko had scrambled all afternoon. He didn't know what to wear. After two hours of going through his wardrobe, Niko got frustrated. He got into his car and drove over to Perseus. The flamboyant man who worked there always had a comment on his clothes.

"That's a very interesting outfit, very-"

The glare that Niko shot towards him stopped him in his tracks. He was such a short and weak guy that Niko could have ground him into a fine powder.

"I want a black suit." Niko said, ending the possible bullshit from the clerk.

"Obsidian, licorice, or jet?" The clerk asked, in a serious way. Niko sensed his sincerity and softened.

"Jet."

He scurried to the rack with the full suits and found Niko's size. He set that aside and ran over to the display that held the shirts. "White or gray?"

"White," Niko answered.

"Warm or cool?"

"Warm," Niko answered without completely understanding what the effeminate man meant.

"Ivory, cream, or cloud?"

"Cloud." Niko answered quickly for the third time.

"And now a tie. Funeral, opera, or cocktail party."

"Opera."

"Comedy or Tragedy?"

"What's the difference."

"Comedy means a pattern is okay. Tragedy solid color or thin stripes only. Paisley out of the question."

"Whatever… tragedy."

"So the tie should be a nice dark brown. Taupe, bistre, sepia, sienna, or burnt umber."

"I don't know what any of those colors ar-"

"Time for the swatches." He bolted into the back of the store awkwardly, reappearing carrying what looked like a binder full of patterns. He opened it right to the page that was labeled 'BROWN'. He started pointing at the colors "Okay, so this is taupe, and this is bistre, sienna, and burnt umber."

"Okay, how about that first one you showed me."

"Taupe?"

"Yes, taupe." Niko replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we're out of taupe."

"Then why did you suggest it?" Niko felt like he was trapped in a farce, like some sick person was writing a frustrating misadventure.

"I didn't actually think you would choose taupe, I mean really that is so vintage, when you're going for a sort raggedy look. But if you said tragic opera, you want a sort of civilized, sophisticated, but not too stuffy look."

"Whatever."

* * *

He arrived outside of Kate's early, 6:45. The summer sun was still blazing hot. He sat in his Infernus, air conditioning blasting, hands at ten and two, twiddling his thumbs. He was anxious, not a nervous anxiousness, but an excited variety.

He was looking blankly at the pavement, cars passing by too quickly. He felt and heard each of them pass, because he did not have his radio on. It seemed that each only had about twenty songs, and the talk radio sounded the same every day.

He heard a gentle tapping, to his right. He turned his head and saw Packie standing by the passenger side window. Niko unlocked the door, and, hearing the click, Packie opened the door. He was dressed in green as usual. He looked back up at his stoop to make sure that Kate was not coming and closed the door beside him.

"Look," Packie started testily, "If you so much as but a hairline crack in her heart, I _will_ kill you."

"I won't crack her heart, and when you put it like that you make it sound as if her heart were made of stone or porcelain." Niko answered.

"If she comes home crying, you'll do more than cry. You'll only want to fucking die."

"I would die if I upset her." Niko was on point with the one liners today.

"I would fucking end you."

"I would end myself first."

Packie let off a sigh that was composed of relief, understanding, and awe. He spoke, "I wasn't asleep in the back of that car. I heard most of what you said, and I know you're serious." His voice grew tense and serious again, "Don't hurt her and don't let her be hurt by anyone else."

"I promise to you that I will not let anything happen to her."

"Fine," Packie grunted as he started to rise out of the low car.

Just as he was getting out of the car, a jewel emerged from the house.

She was wearing a solid green sleeveless dress. The color was like the leaves of a well tended juniper tree. It was form fitting, but not tight. It ran from her shoulders to a couple of inches below the knee. It was cut in such a way to show that Kaye had curves, but left everything else to the imagination. She carried a thin shawl over her shoulder that was the color of honey. She shut the door behind her and turned around to lock it.

Packie got out of the car and called over to her, "Hey, hey, what are you doing?" He screamed while shutting the door, cutting off Niko's ability to hear what was being said.

"I'm going out Patrick, while the sun's up. You should try it." She retorted as she stopped locking the door.

"Look's like you're going on a date." He shouted, jeering.

"Well I am. What's the problem?" She said, descending the steps in her brown flats.

"Oh, no problem," he said, "just didn't think I'd ever see you admitting to going on a date." His tone softened considerably.

"Well," she likewise grew gentler, "There's a first for everything."

"Have fun," he said.

"I will," she replied as she got closer to the car, "And by the way," she opened the door to the car, "I only got a chance to lock the top."

"Okay," Packie said, for the first in his life being at a loss for words. He listened in awe as the car door shut. He threw his hands up in confusion and muttered, "Whatever. I'm too old for this shit."

* * *

Review or PM!


	6. Operas and Artist

Kate chuckled internally at the dumbfounded look on her brother's face. She watched as he walked towards his car, and how he drove off. She looked over at Niko and saw the equally perturbed expression that was plastered onto Niko's otherwise handsome face. She felt a pang of guilt, for anxiety antithesis of her plan. She looked down at the watch on her wrist.

6:56

"You're early." She said, trying to make small talk.

"I'm sorry, I was just so anxious to see you." And that was the truth.

"What kind of anxious? The good kind that make you excited, or the bad sort that makes nervous."

"A little bit of both." He was a man of profound honesty when he was uncomfortable.

"Aw, I make you nervous," she blushed as she grabbed his right arm. Her blush grew fiercer, as she realized the size of the muscles beneath the clothing. He wasn't a bodybuilder but he was better built than the average guy. She relinquished his arm after about a minute… or two.

"Yes, you do. I don't want to screw up."

"You have told me your whole life story and I'm still here. I doubt very much that you can screw up." She said.

"I don't trust myself."

"I do. Trust in that."

"I don't know how you can."

"I know that you're good. You've seen some things and done some things, but you are a good man. I want you to know that just as much as I do."

"You frighten me," he said, adjusting his tie, then putting his hands back on the wheel, "I have never known anyone so kind, so forgiving and it scares me. It's like I have you in a strange dream. One day I think you're going to wake up and see me for who I am, what I did, and then you're going to leave. And I won't blame you. I-"

"You have to learn to be okay with you Niko, I am." She wanted to get through to him, "I really am. It's not a dream, it's real. I wake up every morning and choose to love-"She put her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The word had already reverberated in the car, settling in the plush material of the seats and disappeared. A silence so loud that their ears rang, replaced it.

She let it slip and now both of their faces were red with shock. She removed the hand from her mouth and shut it. The car grew warm, or at least that's what they both perceived. Niko felt something twitch in his pants, but suppress the urge to acknowledge what it was. Kate noticed Niko squirm slightly, but interpreted it as a mere reaction to the word.

She spoke, or tried to, "I want you to know… There's a lot of…"

"You don't have to say anything," He said sensing her nervousness.

"So…" she sighed, thankful that he saved her minutes of writhing and stuttering, "Where are you taking me?"

"I thought that we should go to the opera at Randolf Center. I have the tickets, not too close to the orchestra, but not too far so that we can see whatever."

"I've never been," she said, "Irish and Italians did not get along well back in the day. A paddy wouldn't be caught dead at a goombah opera."

"Back home before the wars, we used to go into Belgrade and see them all the time. I remember, when we got a radio, the first thing we did was listen to a broadcast of _Anna Bolena_."

"First thing I heard on the radio was a news report about the violence in Little Italy, the families shooting at each other and then the cops that responded."

"This city has always been bad," He said, putting the car in drive, "I'm no longer a part of that legacy."

"That's right," she relaxed in the seat, as he pulled out, only to stop at a red light.

He drove carefully, obeying the lights and speed limit, signaling his turns, and indicating lane changes. She sat in silence, marveling at how the same man was capable of driving 130 miles an hour and not flinch, and then do thirty and be completely content. It was silly, but the thought made her want the speed demon. Her supposition was always that the 'bad boy' vibe was what started the initial attraction. The only thing, she also supposed, was that the 'bad boy' got himself into too many hairy situations. It was a strange thing, indeed, wanting what she didn't want, having what she could get from anyone. It was like chasing her shadow in the sun. The Niko she wanted most was visible, but untouchable. The Niko she needed was ordinary, and sitting there in the flesh, and she couldn't be more content.

Even with the shadow in full view.

He came up onto Charge Island, and as it's namesake says, he paid the toll to cross into Algonquin. Kate looked at the Midtown skyline and sighed. It was an unwieldy, frightening, yet innocent noise she made. She hated everything the skyline stood for and grew to hate it more as the same ideal, the ruthless want of money, caused Niko to do just about anything to get it. Yet, only yesterday, she was on Columbus Avenue buying the green dress she was wearing now.

"I hate this city," she whispered to her reflection in the mirror.

"What?" He asked, still staring at the road.

"I hate this place. The weather's ridiculous, it's always too hot or too cool. It rains or snows. The people suck, they're either rude or stupid."

"Agreed." Niko said.

She got silent again, and looked back out the passenger side window. A little smile came across his face. He was glad that she didn't see it, for in his head, he chided himself for how goofy it looked. He drove towards the Quartz Traverse of Middle Park, and looked out of the window. He was sure that he would take her on another date here.

" _Hmmm…"_ he thought, " _date."_

The shock and awe that he wore on his face when he arrived on Savannah had returned. It came back in degrees. His mouth shut and formed a grimace. His eyebrows came closer together. He squinted, ever so slightly. His breathing hastened, though not as noisily as before. His knuckles became white and he was gripping it hard enough to leave handprints in the steering wheel. A single, defiant bead of sweat started to roll down his forehead.

* * *

Niko parked in one of those municipal parking lots not too far from the theatre. They walked the two blocks over and walked towards the building where the singers are. They walked through the throng of well-to-do people and made their way to the entrance. They walked in and were checked quickly. Niko wasn't carrying any bombs especially after that job for Faustin. They were guided to the entrance of the hall, and took their seats. Kate was impressed with how the light shone off of the gilded ceiling, sharing a orange tinge with everything in the room. It was cool in the space, but not so cold that any of the people who were sleeveless wanted anything more keep warm. The curtain was a vivid blood red in the orange light and looked big enough to be the big top at a circus.

They settled and found that most of the crowd outside must have been for something else, as the space was relatively empty. Niko looked down at his watch and saw that the show was about to start.

"Don't blink too loud, don't stir a limb, and most of all don't cough," he said chuckling.

"Don't stare at my tits all night. Focus on the stage." she whispered back, knowing that he wouldn't be able to come up with a reply.

"You win," he said quickly, "You're funnier than me."

"And don't you forget it."

* * *

"I liked that a lot, Niko," she said, as they walked out at the end.

"I'm glad. It was a bit of a gamble."

"How?" She asked.

"Americans are strange creatures. You, all of you, you're surrounded by beauty. You have everything at your fingertips, and you don't even scratch the surface," he made that weird chuckle he made before he got into a heavy part of his past, "When our fathers weren't drunk, when they weren't beating us senseless, that's when I saw how beautiful things can be. I wanted to be an artist, a painter. I wanted to go all around the world and paint all the wonderful things that were everywhere. The people, the buildings, the plants, whatever."

As they continued toward his car, she spoke, "I never knew that. You never told me that."

"It was frowned upon. All of my friends wanted to be soldiers, shepherds, machinists. You know, the things they called, 'useful'. I was the one who escaped and daydreamed. When the war came, fantasy died, and my dreams did too. I did all those horrible things and I forgot the little kid who wanted to go all over and paint. And I was good too. One year, my mother took me to Belgrade. Her friend told her that in the city. Good artists were taken in. I would have gotten a patron, who could look after us."

"What happened?"

"My father found out about it and forced us to go back home. Then the next week the war started and they drafted all of us to fight." They found themselves right next to his car and got in it.

"I don't know what to say." She whispered

"You don't have to say anything." He said in a disconcertingly comforting voice, "Let's just get something to eat."

"Please, I'm starv-," She stopped herself and thought, " _How could you say that? You never starved in your life."_

Niko wasn't bothered at all by it, for he knew that that was a common expression in the strange language he found himself speaking. He showed no outward sign of offense, because there was no internal disturbance, at least not from an innocent word.

"I'm sorry," she sounded apologetic, "I misspoke."

"You didn't say anything wrong." He said.

"It was insensitive." She said.

"Do I look like the sensitive type?" He said.

"You just told me that your life's dream was to be an artist." She replied.

There was silence as they both looked out of the windshield, and then hysterical laughter from the both of them.

* * *

When Kate got home, Packie was waiting, sitting in a big comfy chair, looking ready for an interrogation. She shut the door behind herself, took her shoes off.

"Trying to sneak in, huh?" Packie said, in a much softer tone than e used to talk to her.

"No," answered she, calmly, "My feet are killing me."

"So, you enjoyed yourself, then?"

"Yes, yes I did." Her reply was matter-of-fact.

"Good, good…"

"Is something wrong, Packie? You usually would have hurled some sort of insult at me by now."

"No, I just… nothing."

"No, not nothing, something."

"Just don't let him break your heart is all." He said, with a bit of a blush on his face.

She dropped her shoes, and they landed with two thuds. She ran over to Packie and she gave him a hug saying, "Aww, you care about me!"

"Okay… okay you can let me go."

"And just when I thought, you didn't give a shit."

"You're right. I don't give a shit, but if I did, I'd give it to you." He said, jokingly.

"Aww," she said tightening her grip.

* * *

Review or PM me.


	7. The North Wind and the Sun

Niko and Kate were plastered. That's what happened when you went to the Steinway Beer Garden with deep pockets. He knew that he wasn't going to drive anywhere in his state. They sat in the booth in the back of the bar and Niko put the money down to pay. He took out his phone and was about to dial for one of Roman's cabs.

"We can walk you lazy bastard," Kate suggested, in her ossified state. "It's only a few blocks."

"I can barely stand up straight and you want me to walk."

"Jедан, два, три, четири, пет, шест," She counted to six in Serbian.

"Congratu-fucking-lations, you can count."

"Yes I can. And pretty well."

"Kate, you're drunk." He said, thinking, in his very addled head that he sounded smart.

"Yes, I believe, I am! What are you going to do about it. Are you going to punish me. I dare you. Whaddya gonna do spank me. Well screw you. I didn't get spanked as a kid and I'm sure as hell not gonna let you."

"You, my dear, have a very fresh mouth. Where did you ever learn such language."

"I always talk like this when people want to spank me."

"I want to tap something else." Niko replied, slurring.

"You ain't getting this biscuit so it looks like your hand is gonna be your best buddy tonight. I'm sure you're already well acquainted." She countered.

"These fingers pull triggers."

"You're a man. I know what you men-creatures get up to. I hear the noises coming from Packies bedroom. I've seen his internet history and you men are nasty. Little Asian women. Everything pixelated. Disgusting."

"How do you know they pixelate that shit? What have you been getting up to?" He smirked.

"Fuck you."

"Caught you. It's not only the men who watch that stuff, you watch it too."

"No, I do _not_."

"DO too."

"Do NOT" she said arguing like a child, but I mean, come on, he started it.

"Well how do you know what those Japanese do?" He asked.

"I accidentally clicked on the link and the thumbnail for the video was enough. Why is Packie watching stuff like that? Why does the girl have on her knees with all those men around her?"

"I don't know. Ask Packie," he suggested, slumping in the seat a little, before catching himself, "I'm glad I have some blackmail on him."

"Ha!" She exclaimed entirely to loudly.

"What's so funny?" He asked, wondering why the room was spinning.

"Why is it called blackmail? What did a black guy ever have to do extortion." She thought that this was particularly funny.

"That is funny. God, we're drunk."

"Yes, as I said before, I believe, we are."

"At least you don't sing like Packie does. It's annoying as hell." Niko said, noting that

"I don't know any drinking songs, but I know a few hymns."

"But you're a lady, you shouldn't know too many 'hims'. You should be calling them 'hers'." Niko chuckled and looked down at the table. He was absolutely amazed at how the grain of the wood seemed to be changing.

"Leave the jokes to me, honey." She derided playfully.

"Hey, this weird language you speak is my second and I think that was a good joke. Especially for me being drunk." He said with a slight dent made to his ego.

"You're right. English is bloody difficult." She said doing a rather impressive 'Received Pronunciation'.

"Bloody? We're in America. Speak English."

"The North Wind and the Sun were disputing-" She started.

"Which was the stronger, when along came a traveler wrapped in a warm cloak. They made me recite that a million times when I was learning."

"It's not a queue."

"No this is a bar," Niko said.

"No, they call a line, a queue."

"I didn't know that. You are very smart Kate."

"Thank you Niko, but I'm sure I can't teach you anything," she said getting up.

"Where are you going?! Don't leave me! I need you…" He said grasping at air in her general direction.

"I was just going to the bathroom."

"Can I come with you? Don't leave me behind. You, you, complete me."

"Jesus, you get sloppy. No you can't come with me." She walked to the restroom and a dejected Niko stayed in his seat. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and went to the bottom of the list. It rang a couple of times, and then the familiar voice of his favorite cousin buzzed through the speaker.

"Niko, how's it going?"

"Kate wouldn't let me go to the bathroom with her," he said tears starting to well up in his eyes, though he didn't know exactly why he was so sad about it.

"NIko, you have gone out drinking I see."

"How can you see, we talk on telephone. Are you spying on me?" Niko asked, accusatory, looking out of the window.

"You've been drinking stout, that black stuff. It always makes you crazy. I already told you, if it's black, stay away."

"Roman, I didn't take you for a racist. Shame on you. Black people are our friends. They contribute so much to the culture. They're so musically and poetically gifted, you listen to the Vibe. I'm telling Little Jacob that you said that about him."

Ignoring that, Roman asked "Do you need a cab?"

"How did you know?"

"Steinway, right?"

"Yes," Niko, struggled with that word. Something about the 'Y' or the 'E' or the 'S' didn't make good sense.

"Okay, someone will be there soon."

"Thank you, but you need some sensitivity training. I worked with all kinds of gangster and they were all equally scummy. "

"See you soon, NB."

Kate came back and looked relieved.

"I called a cab," Niko said.

"Good, you have me out and awake way past my bedtime,"

"You're a grown woman you don't have a bed time. You could go out clubbing right now at that Cabin10 place in Algonquin."

"It's Maisonette 9, Niko. And, I am not interested in strange men grinding on me, getting me pregnant through my clothes."

"I don't think that's possible, unless you're really fertile." Niko countered with a strengthening, sobering logic, though not quite reasonable enough to make good choices.

"You got me there. I was never really good at biology," she said innocently enough, before mentally slapping herself for leaving such an open hole for him to attack. Damn, she had done it again even in her thoughts. The double entendres had been the defining feature of their conversations. It wasn't unwelcome to her, as she could hold her own with the tit-for-tat. ' _Don't say tit.'_ she thought, falling into yet another trap. ' _This_ _whole- Don't say hole- This_ _entire thing is just_ _dripping-_ _Forget it stop thinking,"_ She chided herself internally, and braced for a fresh response from her boyfriend and readied herself to respond to him.

"I could teach you some biology. In particular about reproduction."

"When you teach me Serbian, you can teach me that." She responded, wondering why she didn't take offense to the insinuation and in fact liked it a bit.

"Deal!," he said in English trying to find the strength and coordination to put forth his hand to shake on it. His hand just wouldn't go where he wanted it to, so he gave up. In Serbian, he said, " _You are the most beautiful, delicate thing I have ever had the pleasure of beholding."_

" _You are the most pitiful drunk I have ever seen."_ She replied, noting that her accent was better when she let go of the English pronunciation and let the Serbian words flow.

In English, Niko replied , "When did your accent get so good. I should get you an award."

"Ooh, may a trophy, or you could give me a medal."

"I can give you something as hard as metal." He replied, now growing aware of what he was saying, but not relenting. He like to watch her eyes light up as she came up with the next quip.

"That's a bit of a stretch, Niko." She said, before immediately regretting it.

"Oh, I'm sure it would have to stretch."

"Fuck you," she replied playfully, the buzz, still working on her brain.

"I'd love to."

Getting very serious, "Niko, when I'm ready…"

"Yes?" The thought of that seemed to put his brain right, at least for the short term.

"When I'm ready, Niko, you'll be the first to know. Alright. That's a promise."

"I'm happy to wait."

"Thank you. Niko that means a lot."

"You mean a lot." He replied.

"Aww," she went, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

He blushed fiercely and could not believe that his pants grew too tight from just a kiss. She may not have known it, but to Niko, she had the mystique and allure of the most practiced seducer. Never had he had such a reaction from a platonic display of fondness and affection. He was ready to burst, in more ways than one, from even a simple, peck on the cheek. Brucie was right. He was going soft. He thought some more. He would happily turn to mush in her hands, she would probably prove to be a most kind mistress.

His phone ringing snapped him back to reality. He answered it, "Hello"

"Your taxi's outside." Roman said.

"Thanks, cousin." Niko said quickly, hanging up. "Our ride's here," he said to Kate.

They walked outside and got into the waiting Cavalcade. Niko had enjoyed himself, but he wondered what was next, and if his haw hard his head would be throbbing in the morning.


End file.
